


I Let You Under My Skin (it's only you that I need)

by roses_and_thorns3



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Alec Is Done With Everyone's Shit, Anal Sex, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bisexual Jace Wayland, Blood Drinking, Clizzy side story, Dom Simon Lewis, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hate Sex, Light D/s undertones, M/M, Mutual Pining, Not Canon Compliant, Pansexual Simon Lewis, Post-Canon, Slow Burn, Sub Jace Wayland, Vampire Sex, actual shadowhunting, hopefully, jimon, long fic, we'll see
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-18
Updated: 2018-08-25
Packaged: 2019-04-04 05:38:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,903
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14013345
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/roses_and_thorns3/pseuds/roses_and_thorns3
Summary: Something changed between Jace and Simon the night Simon drank his blood. Many somethings. The two can't seem to stay out of each other's business, no matter how much they try. The question is, are these newfound feelings just unexpected side effects of blood sharing, or something more?





	1. Side Effects May Include

**Author's Note:**

> Canon divergence is as follows:  
> -Canon up until 2x10  
> -Loosely follows events of 2B except Sebastian is/was never an issue  
> -Climon ends for a very different reason (wink wink)

_Hung on your every move_

_That pale skin n’ crimson lips_

_-_

“Jace? Are you okay?”

Jace was _not_ okay. He didn't even know what the word _meant_ anymore. What he did know was three things: One, Valentine wasn't his father. Two, Clary wasn't his sister. And three, Jace had made a terrible mistake letting Simon feed off of him that day in the Institute.

The problem wasn't that Simon had _done_ it, Jace would be lying if he said he wasn't relieved that Simon was alive, that Simon was okay. No, the problem was that Jace hadn't activated his _iratze_ at all after Simon had bit him. Even if it would have helped, even if it would have made sense for Jace to be at his full strength on the night they won against Valentine, he hadn't let a stele anywhere near his healing rune, even when both Clary and Alec had offered. Even when he realized why he was refusing.

Jace did not want Simon’s bite to heal. It hadn't been a conscious desire, or even a subconscious one. It had been an instinct. An impulse. _Leave it there_ , a voice had said in the back of Jace’s head. _Let him mark you_.

It didn't take Jace more than a day to realize something was wrong.

It started small. Accepting the fact that Clary wasn't his sister and realizing he didn't care. That he didn't … didn't feel the way he used to for her anyway. He felt like a brother. He wanted to be her brother. He’d even said as much to Alec.

“...Really?”

“Is that so surprising?” Jace quirked a brow, unsure as to why his _parabatai_ struggled so much with the revelation.

“Um, little bit. I mean, Jace, you were willing to die for her, and now…”

Jace pushed off from his perch against the wall, shifting to face Alec directly. “I still would -- die for her -- that is. But it's no different than I would gladly lay down my life for you or Izzy. She may not be my sister by blood … but it's what she is. A sister.”

Alec’s brows furrowed, disbelief painted all over his face. His lips parted as if to object, but then-

“Okay. If you're serious.”

“I am.” Jace was. And he really couldn't understand why Alec had such a hard time believing him.

It wasn't until Jace walked outside to tell Clary what he’d learned when -- Simon. She was with Simon. And suddenly he wasn't standing at the door to the Institute, wasn't watching Simon very literally sweep Clary off her feet and spin her through the air, the sun shining brilliantly on both of them, somehow unaffected. Jace was begging Simon to feed, telling him it was okay, that he could take what he needed, Valentine’s eyes on him the entire time as pleasure swept through Jace like a cresting wave of _Simon_ , as Simon sucked and sucked and the razor-sharp points of his fangs in Jace’s arm became keyholes directly into all that Jace was made of, underneath his skin. A furious heat was moving through the both of them at those two points and he wanted more, wanted _Simon_ \--

And then Jace was standing on the steps of the Institute. Watching as Simon seemed to drift further away.

So Jace turned and went inside, all intentions of telling Clary the truth about the two of them gone from his mind.

-

If there was one thing Jace never did, it was dream. He used to brag that it was just another true soldier's trait, allowing him to get the rest he needed without his subconscious muddling his focus. But after the night everything went to hell, after Simon fed from him and Clary stopped being the core of all Jace thought about, something changed. He _dreamt_.

Simon’s arms around Jace, fangs sunk deep into Jace’s throat. Jace moaning, his voice high-pitched and broken, kiss-swollen lips open in a perfect _o_. Simon whispering sweet nothings in Jace’s ear as his hand traced the runes scrawled on Jace’s abdomen. Simon playing him like an instrument, coaxing any and every sound from Jace as if he wasn't a Shadowhunter, as if he was just a mere mundane in thrall to a hungry vampire. As if whatever had passed between them that night was irreversible, and his dreams were only a reminder of that new truth.

Jace wasn't sure what was stranger: the fact that the dream had felt _good_ , that he’d awoken with them coating each and every muscle, bone, and vein in his body, or that he’d woken to boxers filled with cum.

Simon Lewis had made him cum. And the mere thought of him made Jace hard all over again.

He was in deep, deep shit.

-

“ _Jace_.”

“H-what-huh?”

Alec Lightwood knew something was wrong with his _parabatai_. He’d always had a sense for when something was wrong, like a chill down his spine or the raising of the hair on his arms. But this was different. This time Alec didn't _need_ to be his _parabatai_ to know something wasn't right.

The two boys had been sparring in the courtyard of the Institute, a week having already passed since Valentine was caught and the Sword recovered. They still hadn't talked about the fact that Jace was directly responsible for the deaths of hundreds of Downworlders -- and it didn't take a genius to see that it was weighing on him.

Alec just wasn't fond of feeling helpless when Jace’s eyes glazed over for the third time in one training session.

“Sorry, what were you saying?”

Alec sighed. “I asked if you wanted to go hand-to-hand.”

It proved more effective than asking if he was okay. Jace’s face lit immediately, smirking and throwing his twin axes to the floor.

Some of the Jace Alec knew as his brother returned when they began sparring, when the fighting instincts they’d both been born with locked into place and it became all about the fight, about winning.

Jace brought them both to the ground, Alec twisting up and locking Jace’s hands in place with a swift maneuver. “So, you gonna tell Clary?”

Jace flipped the hair from his eyes and said, “Tell her what?”

“That she’s not your sister.”

Jace’s smirk faded into a slight frown, tripping Alec up and reversing their positions. “You’re the only person I’ve told,” Alec struggled to get free, “she’s lost so much. She’s got a good thing going with Simon,” a pause at the vampire’s name, “Wouldn’t wanna ruin that.” another whirling maneuver, and Jace was on his back, Alec’s arm still trapped.

A moment of struggle and Alec was off the ground, hand still trapped in Jace’s grip. The blonde quickly doubled his hold by wrapping his legs around Alec’s neck and squeezing. Hard. Grunting, Alec continued, “You think you’re _so_ irresistible, that she’s gonna dump him as soon as she finds out you’re not related?”

A different, less-subtle look flickered across Jace’s face, but it was gone before Alec could make sense of it -- and then they’d reversed positions yet again, Alec trapped once more against the floor -- this time with Jace’s right leg.

“I think,” Jace said, “you should worry a little more about your fighting skills,” a grunt as he sat upright, “and a little less about my love life.”

Argument won. Tired of being restrained, Alec tapped the floor with his free hand -- signaling his submission. Jace released him with a triumphant laugh.

Little did Alec know that he’d just been (literally) thrown off their conversation for a reason much different from _Clary_.

-

“ _Please_ , Simon,” Jace begged, face flushed, eyes watering.

Simon studied Jace’s face from his place on the bed, fangs gleaming in the dim light of the boathouse. The blonde Nephilim lay sprawled on Simon’s bed, the vampire’s fist locked around the head of Jace’s neglected cock, purple-red and pre-cum seeping from the tip. Love bites and puncture wounds peppered Jace’s torso, disrupting the scrawl of runes along his abs. The setting sun filtered through a small window behind them, painting the room in swaths of red.

 _He’s beautiful_ , Simon thought, the truth of it striking him abruptly and powerfully, as whatever bond between them burned hotly beneath his skin.

“Please,” Jace wailed, his face a study of tortured pleasure outlined in crimson.

“Please what, Jace? I want to hear you say it.” Simon’s voice was nearly unrecognizable, deep and commanding.

Jace’s swollen, pink lips parted, and shut again.

“Say it.”

Voice rasping and desperate, Jace said, “Let me cum. Please let me cum.”

Simon grinned -- a frightening sight when his fangs were out, planted a soft kiss on Jace’s cheek, and released his hold on his cock. Jace came violently, eyes rolling back into his head as the brunt of his orgasm slammed into him, and Simon wished he could capture that look of neverending bliss, wished he could sear it into his memory.

 _Beautiful_.

-

Simon’s eyes flew open, falling back into reality like a stone dropped into a pool. He’d been dreaming. Dreaming … of Jace.

 _Again_.

Simon tried in vain to blink the memory (no, _dream_ ) of Jace looking so wrecked from his eyes, tried to remind himself of what was real.

 _Jace hates your guts_ , Simon thought, _he only saved you because of Clary_.

Right, yes. Because Jace loved Clary. Clary … who still slept soundly in Simon’s arms.

Horror crept over Simon’s face as he felt the erection in his boxers, stirred by thoughts of someone other than his girlfriend.

_Nope, not your girlfriend. Just her brother._

Simon was fucked. So totally and completely fucked.

Things had been … strange since that night in the Institute. Something new had flashed between Simon and Jace when Simon had fed on him, and now Simon could feel it beneath his skin, like a subtle layer of difference coating each of his organs and muscles, that redirected every pathway in his body and thought in his head back to _Jace_.

And Clary … Clary was here, in his arms, and Simon wasn’t nervous, wasn’t uncomfortable or exhilarated, simply lying in bed with his best friend.

 _Girlfriend_. Right?

Simon couldn’t decide on what was most horrifying about the past week. That this was the fourth night in a row he’d dreamt of Jace, and it made him harder than he’d ever been -- or that as each day went by, his girlfriend felt less and less like his girlfriend.

The latter.  _Definitely_ the latter.

The worst part was Simon couldn’t even make himself care.


	2. Terrible Idea

“Absolutely not.”

“Come on, Jace. You saw how he fought at the Institute. He won’t slow us down.”

 _He’ll slow me down_ , Jace thought, _a lot_.

Jace had been relieved when Alec assigned him and Clary to a mission. He was desperate for distraction, the scent of death still clinging to the Ops Center where he massacred three-hundred Downworlders and sleep no longer available to him without the overwhelming presence of a certain vampire in each and every dream.

 

Jace was horrified to realize that his thoughts had been so swept up in Simon that he’d _forgotten_ about what actually happened with the Soul Sword. Forgotten about the blood on his hands. Jace had stopped in for a drink at the Hunter’s Moon when he remembered. Maia hadn’t been on her shift at the time, so the bartender had been someone else -- a male vampire.

“Scotch, neat.” Jace had said, sliding into one of the leather barstools.

The vampire had continued cleaning glasses as if he hadn’t heard.

“Hey, buddy. I asked for scotch.”

When the vampire looked up, hatred burned in his eyes like fire, “I’m not serving you anything, Shadowhunter.”

 

Jace’s brows furrowed. He didn’t even know the guy. “Did I do something to offend you?” He couldn’t keep the incredulousness from his voice -- had Jace truly made an enemy of everyone who worked in this bar?

“Yeah. You killed half my clan.”

Jace paled. He’d forgotten. He had _forgotten_.

For the first time in the week and a half since that night, thoughts of Simon Lewis completely vacated Jace’s brain, welcoming in a fresh wave of something he’d hoped he was rid of, something he’d wanted so desperately to be free of.

Hatred, old and stinging, lapped at the edges of his brain. Hatred for himself, for everything that was _Jace_.

He’d almost wished for Simon in that moment, wished for that heat, for the comfort of it, and the hatred only doubled. _Weak_ , Valentine would say, _to love is to destroy, and to be loved is to be the one destroyed_. Valentine breaking his fingers if he played a note wrong on the piano. The sickening snap of his falcon’s neck.  

He’d walked back to the Institute in a daze.

-

The universe had a funny way of granting his wishes. Jace had tracked Clary to the Brooklyn Promenade, arriving only to find her lips locked with Simon.

The mere sight of him lit Jace’s body on fire. One minute he was standing behind Clary, the next he was begging Simon to _feed. It’s okay, Simon. Take what you need_.

 

It was going to be a long night.

-

Simon Lewis was beginning to question what had become a severe lack of impulse control.

He’d been sitting with Clary at the Brooklyn Heights Promenade, watching the sunset.

“Look at us! On our favorite bench, in the _sun_.” Clary shifted to face him, feigned shock on her face, “We’re like a normal couple!”

Simon snorted, “Yeah, except normal doesn’t even feel like normal anymore. I’m not even a normal vampire! Just a freak of vamp nature.”

“You are  _not_ a freak. You’re unique. Special. Sexy.” Clary’s smile turned devious, biting her lip cheekily.

 

Simon had waited years for Clary Fray to call him sexy. And now? It left something to be desired. And it wasn’t even her fault.

 _Just mine_ , Simon thought glumly, _for having sex dreams about her brother_.

“Don’t you think there has to some sort of downside?” Simon said, motioning to the orange and red sunlight on his skin, the feeling still deliciously warm, but nothing compared to that new heat beneath his skin --

 _Stop it brain_. _I’m picking_ this _sexy, carrot-haired Morgenstern_. Not _the pornographic, muscled, golden hunk-- Oh for the love of--_

“We’ve already seen the downside, Simon. It’s time to focus on the upside.”

“What if I turn into a scorch mark on Fifth Avenue?”

“Well let’s not think about that, okay? Listen. We’ve been through so much. _Lost_ so much. But now, we have each other. And it’s good.”

 

She was right. Wasn’t this what Simon had always wanted? Clary to love him back, the sun on his face, superhuman strength and speed -- he had it made. Wet dreams aside.

“Really, really good.” He agreed, smile spreading wide over his face.

Clary smiled in return, still a dazzling sight, but not inspiring the same flurry of nerves that it used to. Simon needed to have a long conversation with his nervous system.

“Soo... enjoy it.”

Feigning a sigh, Simon leaned into her. “Okay. Starting right now.” and kissed her.

“Thank you.” Clary laughed triumphantly into the kiss, curving her arm around his neck and pressing in close.

It felt … like nothing. Like kissing a photograph.  
_Dammit Lewis, get it together_. Clary’s lips were soft, pillowy … no, that didn’t work. Soft, like kissing a cloud. No, that didn’t work either. They were …

 _Jace was behind them_.

 

It hadn’t even been a conscious thought. It’d been _instinct_ , his body locking in on the Nephilim’s presence, his smell, his proximity. _JaceJaceJaceJace_.

What the _hell_?

“Clary.” Jace said.

Oh god, his _voice_. Simon’s nerves flared to life at the sound, as Clary pulled away and got to her feet, an apology angled Simon’s way and then, “What are you doing here?”

Jace got right to the point. “Alec’s assigned us both to a mission. We have to leave, now.”

Clary sighed, clearly unsurprised. “Just let me get my stuff.”

Jace said all of this without even glancing Simon’s way, clearly making a point of ignoring his existence. Same as usual, then. Did vampires feel like this for every person they fed off of?

Clary shrugged into her jacket and threw her bag over her shoulder. Simon stood to meet her, and she smiled again. “I’ll call you tonight?”

“Yeah.”, a kiss, then they were turning away. Jace was leaving, just like that. Disappointment struck, buzzing insistently against him like an insect. Simon wanted Jace to stay, wanted --

 

“Or … I could come with you guys.” They paused, surprise on Clary’s face as she turned. Jace stayed facing the other way.

“Absolutely not.” said Jace’s back.

Clary had already decided on her answer, always eager to spend time with Simon. “Come on, Jace. You saw how he fought at the Institute. He won’t slow us down.”

Simon offered a winning grin, “Yeah, come on. I’ve been practicing. Maybe I’ll even help.”

Jace appeared to tense, and then he turned. “Fine. But you do as I say.”

Simon saluted. “Roger that.”

A muscle jumped in Jace’s jaw.

Simon laughed carefully. “Soooo. Shall we depart?”

-

 _This is a terrible idea_.

Jace repeated the thought like an anthem. _This is a terrible idea_. Truly. Why had he agreed to let Simon come along? The answer came immediately: Because it’d been too long since he’d seen his face. At this point Jace didn’t know what to make of that thought. He’d _missed_ Simon. It’d been a week since that day on the steps of the Institute, watching the vampire bathed in sunlight, unharmed. Like a painting. A week since Simon had drunk his blood. The mouth-shaped scar on Jace’s right forearm seemed to burn at the memory. That scar was still the first thing his eyes found in the mirror when he got dressed. And now that he’d let it heal the mundane way, there was no getting rid of it. Jace wanted it that way.

 _This is a terrible idea_.

 

“So, where to?” The vampire in question also never stopped talking. They’d been walking five minutes, none of those minutes quiet as Jace was hit with a relentless assault of questions, the soft ring of Simon’s voice coating each one, interrupted only by the sound of their footsteps and Clary’s occasional laughter at her boyfriend’s comments.

Her _boyfriend_ , Jace reminded himself, _so stop thinking about him_.

It wasn't even that Simon was _here_. Jace had been around the vampire long enough to say he tolerated him, even liked him -- it was how every switch in Jace’s body flipped to ON as soon as he sensed Simon’s presence. Everything Jace used to keep himself grounded came untethered around Simon, and he hated it. Hated how much he liked it.

 

Of course, his face betrayed none of this, Jace having mastered the art of Resting Bitch Face. “It's just a nest. Nothing too crazy.”

“ _Nest_?”

Jace rolled his eyes.

“Demon nest, Simon.” Clary said.

“Oh. Right.”

“Just don't get in the way.”

 _This is a terrible idea_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So yeah, this one was mostly filler, but Chapter 2 was starting to get a little run-on so I decided to just split it and what would have been a stupidly long Chapter 2 be Chapter 3 instead.  
> Nonetheless, I hope you enjoyed -- kudos and comments make my world go round ;)


	3. Push

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the end begins...

_It must be written all over my face_

_Through the smile that’s starting to fade_

-

Simon slammed the boathouse door shut behind him, dragging a hand down his face as if to wipe it free of the memories assaulting his brain. Groaning, he unzipped his jacket and tossed it away, body too uncomfortably hot from the night’s events.

Everything had gone to shit. Everything.

 _It could have been worse_ , an inner voice chided, _you could be dead. Or worse,_ it paused, taunting him, _he_ _could_.

“Shut up,” Simon said to no one in particular. “Just shut the fuck _up_.”

“Well, that’s no way to greet someone, is it?”

Simon Lewis nearly jumped out of his skin. Whirling around, his eyes finally landed on Raphael Santiago sitting comfortably in one of Simon’s chairs, feigning interest in the Rock Solid Panda posters Simon had plastered onto a pillar in the boathouse.

“Would you like to tell me where you’ve been all day, Simon? Or better yet, _how_?”

-

“So, wait. These demons, they feed off _what_?”

“Bone marrow. _Jikininki_ demons are Japanese in origin, known locally as the _wendigo_. Their scream is said to invoke terror, but Clave records theorize it was the appearance that caused the screaming, not the demon itself. There haven’t been any around here in a while, we’re not sure what might have woken them.”

 

Jace really didn’t know how he’d managed to be so horrifically unlucky.

Clary had split off to join with Izzy in an adjacent alleyway, leaving him with a vampire that his body refused to cease responding to at any given moment, his nerves flaring to life every time he felt Simon move.

This turn of events was particularly horrendous for two reasons. One being that he wasn’t nearly as focused as he always was during patrol, and two being that he was hard. Over Simon Lewis. Again.

And to think, the only things that had left the vampire’s mouth since they’d left was a relentless onslaught of questions and one too many demon puns.

 

The underwhelming activity the night brought wasn’t helping in any capacity. Jace currently stood leaning against a brick wall in the poorly lit alleyway, Simon shuffling on his feet behind him (and _still_ talking). Jace tightened his grip on his seraph blade. Despite all this, he couldn’t tell Simon to shut up. There was a new layer to the vampire’s voice, one Jace couldn’t stop studying. Perhaps that was the true source of his unwieldy erection -- Simon had been practicing rhythm. For singing.

 _Don’t be ridiculous_ , _Herondale_.

It was what happened next that proved Jace was truly not himself.

When the demon arrived, it was only Simon’s sudden silence that alerted him to its presence.

 

All Shadowhunters had an inner sense for demonic energy. It wasn’t as loud as Isabelle’s necklace, or anywhere near as focused -- but it was always there, like an itch beneath the skin, a change in the air they breathed. Jace prided himself on always knowing, always having his senses finely honed. And now? Nothing.

Perhaps he was paying off some poorly-timed karmic debt.

“Jace,” Simon said, that addictive harmony long gone, replaced by the undeniable undertone of fear -- why had Jace agreed to Simon coming along? He had no training, no experience with demons, how was he supposed to defend himself? That heat flared up within Jace again, an exuberant and insistent candle flame. The fire was spreading, coating his bones and muscles.

 _Protect him_ , it hissed, _protect_ Simon.

 

The _Jikininki_ stood at the mouth of the alleyway, arms outstretched, as if motioning for them to come forward. It was tall, at least nine feet, and gray, insubstantial flesh stretched impossibly tight over its jagged bones. Its eyes were sunken into its face and glowing a watery gray. Its mouth was open horrifically wide, as if its jaw had long since snapped and now its facial expression was that of eternal horror.

The heat within Jace turned to ice in an instant. The blood in his veins moved at a snail’s pace, all of his senses zeroing in on the hideous sound coming from the creature’s mouth. A subdued, drawn out groan, like a scream in slow motion -- of pain or anger, Jace couldn’t tell.

Then the demon began to move.

_Protect Simon protect Simon protect Simon protect Simon_

 

“Do. Not. Move.” Jace commanded, confident Simon would understand. This was no longer a night for questions or hesitation. Jace was a Shadowhunter -- and even these newfound feelings for an idiot vampire couldn’t erase that.

Jace lunged, seraph blade alight with its own inner fire.

For all that it looked like an old, broken man, the demon was not slow. It moved with phantom agility, seemingly unbound by the limitations of a skeleton. Its body reached for Jace, but its bones did not, the unnatural strain of its skin sending a bout of nausea up Jace’s throat. He swung his sword in a maneuver that should have cleaved it in half, but the demon evaded at the last second, the tip of Jace’s blade only slicing its gray, rough skin -- thick, viscous fluid leaking from it.

Jace was undeterred. He swung again, this time towards the demon’s long, spindly legs. With a sickening crunch, its clawed feet severed from the rest of its hideous body with a splatter of blood all over Jace’s shoes.

The demon’s mouth opened impossibly wider, and _screamed_.

 

Jace raised his blade again, only to falter as the sound struck his rune-enhanced ears.

“ _Agh_.” It was awful. Like dozens of voices colliding with one another, the demon’s scream clouded everything in Jace’s brain, and he fell to his knees, resisting the urge to throw down his sword and clutch his ears.

 _Agony_ . That’s what this demon was made of. A thousand thoughts and memories sprang to life within Jace, pouring from him at the demon’s command. The _snap_ of his falcon’s neck, the dislodging of his finger bones when he played a note wrong on the piano, awaking to the sight of three hundred Downworlders dead on the floor of the Institute. Awaking in tears from a dream of Simon --

 _Simon_.

 

Jace opened his eyes, turning to see Simon on the ground, clutching his ears as tears streamed silently down his face.

Jace snapped.

That look of sadness, of pain written all over Simon’s face, it shouldn’t be there, didn’t _belong_ there. Rage turned the memories to steam, strength once again rushing to his muscles. He hadn’t even reached for his stele. Jace didn’t pay the glowing strength rune on his arm any mind as he stood, staring the demon right in its mucus-clouded eyes.

And severed its head from its shoulders.

The screaming cut off with a sickening gurgle of ichor as the demon’s bodily fluids splattered his jacket and his shirt.

 

It was like a fist around Jace’s lungs had unclenched. The demon was dead, and Simon--

Jace dropped his seraph blade and ran for Simon, who hadn’t moved from his place on the ground.

Jace’s knees hit the concrete with a thump. “ _Simon_! Are you okay, talk to me, please, Simon--”

Simon covered his face with his hands, refusing to move, until Jace’s voice seemed to rouse him.

“Simon, please, tell me you’re okay.”

Slowly, so slowly, Simon pulled his hands away, reddened eyes gazing up at Jace, at the ichor on his face, the silver lining Jace’s own eyes, the hair falling into his face.

“Jace.”

“Oh, thank the Angel. For a minute I thought you were--”

Simon kissed him.

 

Jace hadn’t even gotten a moment to register, suddenly it was all lips and teeth and _tongue_ and scorching heat and his senses filled with nothing but _Simon_ , a dangerous hum building in Jace’s throat.

It was making and unmaking, ask and answer. Jace’s atoms  _sang_ , brought to life by the vampire whose face he now gently caressed with his hands, Simon’s legs curving around Jace’s torso. _More_ , his body demanded, _more_.

What the hell had happened that night when Simon had fed on him? Jace wasn’t sure he even cared anymore. He could smell Simon, feel the crushing softness of his lips, hear him moaning faintly into Jace’s mouth.

“Stop.” Simon gasped, lips pulling away quickly, like if he hadn’t done it quickly he would never have stopped.

What?

“Jace, we, we can’t, stop.”

He couldn't think. His heart had ceased attempting to keep rhythm, hammering frantically through his ribcage like a thunderstorm.

Jace tried to reorder his mind around the situation, taking note of the flush in Simon’s cheeks, the shock in his eyes, the unevenness of his voice, all the places their bodies touched. His senses had turned towards the vampire like a flower turned toward the sun.

But finally, belatedly, the Shadowhunter traits Jace had honed into fine weapons floated back to him, and he realized they weren’t alone in the alleyway.

 

Because standing at the mouth of it, was Isabelle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry for the wait on this one, guys! Things have gotten really busy on my end the past few weeks, but it should be winding down within the next two, I promise. I hope you guys liked the cliffhanger on this one, I know it was short, but Chapter 4 will be a long one, promise. Things start getting intense from this point on. Thanks for sticking with me, y'all are great. <3


	4. A/N August 25th

Hey guys.

I know it's been forever and a day since I updated this fic. I know this new "chapter" is probably a let-down because it's just an Author's Note, but I wanted to write it just to let you guys know what's happening.

I am by no means quitting this fic. I plan to begin writing the real Chapter 4 this week. The past few months have been really quite rough IRL, and I just wasn't in a mental state where writing and writing  _well_ , in a consistent manner, was manageable. I'm working on getting back into the swing of things, and I am genuinely sorry for all those who have shown enthusiasm for this fic, especially Bev!! Your comments give me life, and I'm so sorry it's been decades since I updated. I promise I'm on my way back into this world, especially with how pissed off I am about the cancellation -- we need to soothe the wounds with fics, right? So I'm back. I missed this story. I missed all the plans I had for it. So hello again. I will do my best to get the chapter out soon. 

For real.

Promise.

Bear with me.

P.S. Did yall  _see_ that Jimon face touch in 3x10?? I yelled out loud. Definitely expect something of the sort to show up here. ;)

**Author's Note:**

> So ... thoughts? This was literally just supposed to be a oneshot smut fic, but it has since mutated. I see this being about six or seven chapters, if not more. Comments and kudos much appreciated :)


End file.
